


You were all I wanted

by bucciaratissun



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Human Trafficking, Kidnapping, Minor Character Death, Rape/Non-con Elements, Unhealthy Relationships, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:01:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25088845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucciaratissun/pseuds/bucciaratissun
Summary: You are bought by the head of Stark crime family for a kid he cares about.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader
Comments: 19
Kudos: 224





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. Peter is an adult!

“We hope you are going to enjoy your new girl, Mr. Stark.” The man loosened his grip on your shoulder as he let you march straight into the arms of a stranger in a fancy striped suit and big frightening men with guns surrounding him.

“Nah, this one isn’t for me.” The stranger who bought you brushed it off as if your presence meant nothing. “She’s a present for the boy. Peter, where the fuck are you?”

You almost jumped at his loud voice, keeping your head low and watching your unstable feet. Well, you expected as much - before you that mysterious Mr. Stark bought one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life. Her striking black hair was shining even in the dim lights of the dressing room where all captured girls were taken care of before the start of the auction. She costed twice more than you and had much more admirers - you remembered how men were shouting, trying to outbid each other. You weren’t that popular, but still ended up being purchased by the same man she was. Now it all made sense.

“I’m here, Mr. Stark!” A young boy’s head popped out in the crowd of other buyers, and he emerged right in front of you with a long men’s coat in his hands. “I’m sorry it took me so long!”

“Look at this gent.” The man smirked at him, and his guards laughed a little at the boy’s enthusiasm. “So caring! I hope you’re not going to take the girl straight to church?”

Now there was an inappropriately loud burst of laughter, and you bit your own tongue. They all were a bunch of bastards, but your life depended on them now. You needed to keep your mouth shut if you wanted to make it out alive.

The boy smiled brightly at his patron and looked at you with sparkles of happiness in his dark eyes. Oh, at least he was more or less pleased with the way you looked, you thought.

“Congrats with your first girl, Peter.” Mr. Stark’s smug grin suddenly turned warm at the sight of the boy who was almost jumping with excitement in front of him. “You’re sure she’s the one you want? I can still get a replacement if you’ve changed your mind.”

“No, no, Mr. Stark, she’s perfect for me!” Once the man in the suit nudged you to come closer to the boy, Peter gently wrapped your shoulders into the coat he carried and smiled at you widely. “Thank you so much for your present, sir!”

“Enjoy, kid.” His patron smirked and motioned to the men waiting for him. “Let’s get going then, I have business to attend to.”

Judging by their nasty smirks, his business had something to do with that gorgeous black-haired woman they took somewhere earlier. You did your best not to throw up at the thought of him forcing her down her knees.

“Can you walk?” The boy suddenly asked you quietly, and you blinked. “Do you want me to carry you?”

Nice joke. The guy looked twice slimmer than you, skinny as a rail. You’d break him in half, probably. You weren’t sure whether he was mocking you, but it was obviously not the right time to throw a temper tantrum.

“I can walk. Thank you.” You mumbled and made a step towards those men who were already leaving.

“Ok. Come with me then.” You thought his boyish smile looked pretty.

You walked past other girls dressed in expensive flashy lingerie adorned with glitter, sequins, and laces. Some of young women were as terrified as you were, their faces red with tears; the others seemed strangely happy, shouting something to each other and giggling in front of their new masters - you thought those girls were prostitutes or someone of the same kind because the idea of laughing happily after being bought like a piece of clothing didn’t sit well with you. You spotted a few more ladies who were still unstable on their feet because they were given too much drugs, probably. Two dozens women, maybe more, were gathered in a place like that to become someone’s property. Like you did now.

It was cold outside despite September being usually warm in New York. You had never lived here before, but one of your friends moved in the Big Apple two years ago and was always talking about nice weather they often enjoyed.

“It’s right over there.” The boy pointed to one of the cars in a long row of them, Mr. Stark already getting inside a ridiculously fashionable one. Peter’s old Honda was nowhere near that, but you were relieved. It made you feel like you weren’t taken to some scary place full of criminals waiting to fuck the shit out of you.

The kid opened the door for you like you were some fairytale princess or something, and you got inside, holding the coat that almost slipped from your shaking shoulders while the boy quickly landed on the driver’s seat. You couldn’t guess his age, but if he drove the car he was probably older than 16.

“I’m so sorry, I know you’re cold.” He glanced at your silk robe beneath the coat, your legs bare - you had nothing but fluffy slippers on your feet. “It’ll get better in a minute.”

What a considerate little guy. If he didn’t show up with that overconfident mobster who looked like he owned New York, you’d think Peter was some sweet high schooler who spent his weekends working in an animal shelter. But you weren’t stupid to believe his innocent looks.

At one point you thought he might be Mr. Stark’s illegitimate son, but something told you it wasn’t that. The way Peter looked at him with adoration proved that the man was more of his patron as you suspected from the very beginning.

“I know they didn’t feed you today, so I brought you some chicken soup.” He said and reached to grab something from the back seat - you glanced at the metal food jar thermos that softly landed on your naked lap.

Did he bring you food? For real? No, it must be some trick - there were drugs or something like that there, for sure. Why else was this guy playing the role of your mother, for God’s sake?

“You’re not allergic to chicken, are you?” Kid looked concerned, watching the troubled expression on your face. “Oh shoot, I didn’t check your allergies!”

“I’m not allergic.” You quickly replied, afraid to make him upset.

He was getting restless too fast, you thought. Peter really behaved like a kid. What was that Mr. Stark told him after the auction? Something like “congrats with your first girl”, wasn’t it? So, it probably meant Peter had never been with a woman before. Not that you had been with a man, either. Maybe that’s why he picked you.

But it also could be all an act. Teenagers weren’t getting slaves to take care of their sexual needs. Maybe this Peter wasn’t as young as you thought, and in fact he was some psycho who planned to drug, rape and murder you.

Either way, he would get mad if you didn’t get started with that soup - you could read it in his face.

Opening the jar, you felt a delicious smell filling your nostrils when your stomach made an ugly sound. Damn, you had never been so hungry in your entire life.

The truth was the supervisors who took care of all the girls before the auction made you starve for two days “to get you in shape”. They said you were too fat and they had to do something to make you at least a bit more presentable.

“Well, if I’m going to die, I will die with a full stomach.” You thought gloomly and started gulping down the warm soup. It tasted heavenly good.

The boy watched you in awe as if you were becoming more and more beautiful with eash sip.

“I’m not much of a cook, but Aunt May managed to teach me to make a chicken soup.” He said with a sudden warmth to his voice. “So, um, don’t worry, you won’t die of starvation with me.”

You forced yourself to smile at his attempt to make a small joke. As far as you were concerned, your body was perfectly okay even after you finished eating. Maybe the drug took longer to start affecting you, but maybe you were just lucky and there was nothing in the soup at all.

All of a sudden, Peter’s phone started ringing, and he took it from the pocket of his jacket immediately.

“Where the fuck are you again, kid?” You could hear Stark’s thundering voice even from your seat.

“I’m sorry, sir!” The boy squeaked and adjusted his seatbelt. “We’re coming!”

____________

The room he brought you to was fairly large and comfortable to your tastes: there were a comfy king-sized bed, a huge table with a dozen of oddly-looking gadgets and two screens, a chair, a drawer and a closet. There was also a newly-bought TV that wasn’t set up yet, and a microwave on a side table.

“I’m terribly sorry for the mess.” Peter apologized to you as if you were his parent who came to scold him. “Don’t worry, I’ll take it all away. Please come and sit here.”

He briefly gestured to the bed, and you bit down on your lower lip nervously. The kid was fast.

You didn’t talk much in the car since you were waiting for the drug to kick in, but nothing happened. As for Peter, you thought that he was too shy to talk, but maybe he just didn’t want to. In the end, he asked his patron to buy you for a very different reason.

“The bathroom is over there. You can take your shower, if you want.” He smiled childishly at you.

How could he keep such innocent face when he was about to rape you?

You gathered whatever courage you had left and said, “C-can we talk?”

The boy froze on the spot and dropped whatever gadget he was holding back on the table. You glanced at his skinny boyish figure, that dark ruffled hair and a really pretty face - he looked like your neighbor’s sweet son who would climb a tree to get a cat stuck up there back to the ground.

“Of course!” Peter landed on the bed close to you, watching you with his undying enthusiasm. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Why did you choose me?”

You really wanted to know. You weren’t the usual goods they sold on that auction, the human traffickers said. Though there were a few girls who weren’t breathtakingly beautiful, most of the ones brought there were well above average women. They looked like they came straight from Victoria’s Secret Show.

“Well… um.” You could see his ears getting red. “You’re… pretty. I like you.”

Huh, funny. Why did you ask? The answer was obvious - you were cheap. Mr. Stark didn’t want to spend too much money on a present for the kid, so Peter had rather limited choice, probably.

“Why are you getting upset?” He sounded so concerned that you made yourself smile again to calm him down. Anyway, it was better to be grateful. You were almost sold to some disgusting old man. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t. I’m sorry.” You hurried to say. “I’m sorry you didn’t get anyone better than me. That place was full of magnificent women.”

What the fuck were you saying? Did you seriously think those poor souls deserved to be sold like cattle just because they were prettier than you? God, you were so messed up.

“Wait, no!” The boy grabbed your hands in his and made you flinch involuntarily. “No, no, you’re beautiful! I chose you because I like you more than anyone else.”

Bewildered, you looked at his worried expression, his eyes staring at you intensely while you squeezed your thighs together. Hearing the boy say that felt very odd, but kind of… comforting? Not many people ever called you beautiful, mind your mother and a few friends. It was stupid to think about it now when the one calling you that was the man whose property you had become, yet you couldn’t help but get those little butterflies in your stomach.

You eyes watered, and you quickly wiped your tears away.

“People were treating you badly, weren’t they? It’s terrible.” The boy pulled out a pack of napkins and took one, gently pressing it to your wet cheek. “But I swear I fell in love with you once I saw your photos on the website. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met, for real!”

When he removed the napkin, you saw his pupils dilating and felt his breath becoming ragged, heavy. One of his hands rested on your thigh as he leaned closer to you and sniffed your hair. Your body went stiff.

“No one gonna say anything nasty to you from now on. I’ll make sure of that.”


	2. Chapter 2

It had started. You could feel the sudden shift in atmosphere when Peter dropped his hand to your cheek, touching you awkwardly as if he was afraid you would disappear once he got more passionate with you. He caressed you gently like a lover, and you felt miserable. The only boy who had ever set his eyes on you was a young mobster who owned you as of you were some soulless object.

"You're so pretty." His whisper was barely audible, his face so close to yours you wanted to shut your eyes.

You needed to relax. No one - even a boy like him - would want to deal with a mad fury. He'd just shoot you: among other things on the table there were there was an actual gun. You needed to keep this guy happy, and maybe Peter would still be sweet with you once he got rid of his virginity.

But then he suddenly stopped and pulled away from you.

"Oh no, what the hell am I doing?" He laughed awkwardly and scratched his head. "Sorry, I didn't mean jumping at you like that. So you wanna take your shower or maybe eat some more?"

You took your eyes elsewhere and did your best not to wince. Keep it cool, breathe, don't push the boy off.

"Can I have some alcohol?" Your voice sounded pathetic.

"Of course!" Peter jumped again and rushed to the drawer. "I have some whiskey and vo... shit, I'm stupid, who the fuck gives vodka to a lady? I'll bring you a bottle of champagne, just a sec!"

He was at the door in a matter of seconds and you gave him a puzzled look. This Peter boy was unpredictable. He grinned at you and went out of the room, locking the door behind him.

You were still on the bed, watching your feet, afraid to move. Technically, in front of you was a regular door with a simple lock and a door handle - if you could find something heavy, you could break it. 

Well, actually, you could just snatch that gun from the table and make a few holes in the wood. The problem with that was that you were inside Stark Tower, that ugly building that looked more like an abandoned factory rather than a graceful skyscraper. How many Stark's guys with guns were there? How far would you make it? 

You could also put a gun against your head and pull the trigger...

You shivered and stood up, walking to the bathroom. You refused to look at the table.

Stripping yourself of all those lacy undergarments with shame and dropping them to the white floor, you sneaked into the bath and turned on the water, trying not to look around too much. It felt like there were cameras everywhere to record you, naked, miserable, and frightened, so you finished showering as fast as you could and wrapped a towel around youself. Could you take that towel, actually? Was it for you? Would Peter want to see you naked on the bed when he returned instead?

You wiped away more tears running down your face and slowly removed the towel, putting on the lingerie they gave you before the auction. 

"Hey, where are you?" Peter's voice rang loudly behind the door. You could feel he was distressed.

"H-here!" You quickly grasped your palr pink silk robe and put it on too, carefully sneaking back to the room to see the boy with a bottle of Moet & Chandon and two champagne glasses in his hands. Huh, classy.

"Oh, hey." He smiled, a bit embarrassed at his outbirst. "I, uh, found this. I hope you're going to like it."

"Thank you, Peter." You murmured softly and saw him grinning wider when he heard you saying his name for the first time. 

Although normally you didn't drink much, you heard about your friend's sexual escapades when she was totally drunk many times and assumed everything could go easier if you had enough champagne. Maybe then you would simply forget you were brought to Stark's Tower and forced to have sex with a guy you had never met before.

Peter had already opened the bottle with a loud noise and poured the sparkly golden liquid into the glass, handing it to you. You brushed your hand against his unintentionally and thought how warm he was. 

"I'm not good with these things, but, um, I'm glad I met you today." He had that radiant boyish smile on his face. When he raised his glass, you raised yours too, barely understanding to what you were saluting. "I'm so happy from now on you're gonna be here with me."

What a romantic. It would be almost sweet if he didn't hold you here against your will.

"I'm happy to meet you, too." You made yourself smile, and the two of you clinked your glasses. You drank all the champagne in one big gulp, not afraid to appear unladylike and caring only to get drunk faster. You didn't eat much, so it had to be easy enough.

Peter repeated after you with a little laugh and filled the glasses again and then again until you didn't start feeling funny and your shoulders finally relaxed, the alcohol removing all the tension from your body like some magical elixir. When the boy reached out to touch your shoulder, you didn't flinch, feeling his soft lips pressing against yours in a gentle kiss.

It wasn't that bad, you thought. He was being very tender with you, taking his time to unfasten your robe with his fingers trembling from excitement, and then kissed your temple. He trailed his kisses down to your neck as you let out a loud sigh, biting your lips, then burying your fingers in his soft disheveled hair. Peter's subtle touches felt good. 

"I'm sorry for hurrying these things up." He said suddenly with guilt all over his pretty face. "I really am, but I have to show the guys you're my girl. They won't understand otherwise, and we might get in trouble." 

"It's ok." You kissed his cheek, watching his eyelashes tremble. "Maybe I'm going to like it. You're nice, Peter."

He looked at you with wide eyes, his lips curling into a wide smile once more at your words as he reached to unfasten your pink bra.

"I don't have much experience, but I'll do my best to make you feel good." His breath tickled your face when the boy cupped your breasts, enjoying the softness of your body. You loved that look of adoration on his face.

"Do you have any?" 

"I do." 

What, really? That high schooler already had his virginity taken by someone else?

"Kids these days." You mumbled and he suddenly pinched your cheek. "Ouch!"

"You're not allowed to call me a kid!" Peter said with a pout, drawing little circles around your nipple and grasping your plump hip. "Only Mr. Stark can. Besides, I'm like year and a half younger that you, so I'm going to call you a little girl then, y'know?" 

"Wha... ahh... Peter." You inched him closer, enjoying the way he played with your breast and kissing him in return. "But you look so young, huh." 

"And you look like a schoolgirl without your makeup." He chuckled and gently sucked your lower lip, his left hand caressing your soft belly. You tensed immediately again, but the boy lowered you on the bed and kissed your forehead, staring at you from above with loving eyes. "Please don't be shy. I like you. Every part of you."

You stayed silent, but your eyes were gleaming with tears when you threw your hands around his neck and inched Peter closer, kissing him more. He rested one of his arms close to your pillow, the other one travelled down your body to squeeze your belly gently again, then went closer to your pussy, forcing you to open your legs and caressing your clit covered by the thin pink fabric of your panties. 

"I can take care of you." The boy cooed softly at your ear and pushed them to the side to touch your already slick folds. "Do you want me to? Do you want me to take care of you?"

"Yes." You moaned when his fingers rubbed your clit and closed your eyes, losing yourself in the moment. "Please, please, Peter, take care of me."

"I knew you'd be a good girl." He licked his lips impatiently and picked up pace rubbing your clit to make you wail under him. "Yes, like that. I'm gonna teach you to cum from my fingers, and then I'll use that tight little pussy of yours, yeah? Would you like that?"

"Yes, yes Peter, plea... ahhh."  
____________

The next morning was peaceful - you woke up to the boy's soft snoring behind you, his hand draped over body. Well, you weren't sure you could keep calling him that since he was actually older than you thought and, uh, way more experienced. If you tried to recall all the things he did to you last night, you could die of shame, probably.

The alcohol helped a lot. Firstly, it was so much easier to blame it for all the pleaser Peter gave you - of course, it was all the alcohol's fault, you couldn't possibly enjoy having sex with someone who thought owing a human being was okay. Secondly, the alcohol allowed you to play the role of a sweet little thing to perfection as you never even once pushed Peter away, probably leaving him satisfied with your submission. If he was satisfied, maybe he wouldn't get rid of you first thing in the morning.

You shivered at the thought and realized you didn't hear his snoring anymore.

"Good morning." He yawned, sneaking closer to you and pressing his face into your hair. "Did you sleep well?"

"Good morning, Peter." You found the strength to gently caress the back of his hand laying on your belly. "Yes, thank you. Did you?"

"Are you joking?" The sound of him giggling made you relax a bit. "I think the last time I slept so soundly was when Aunt May was still alive."

You went quiet, staring at the white bathroom's door across the room. So, the woman he told you about yesterday was dead. You could imagine she was the one who raised Peter, but withour her to take care of the boy - who could be very young at that time - he ended up with Stark's crime family. Then it made sense why he didn't behave exactly like those vultures surrounding his boss as he most likely didn't grow up on the streets of New York.

Were you pitying the man who was holding you captive here? Yes, yes you were.

"Does it hurt?" He asked in quiet voice and touched your lower belly tenderly.

"A little. But not as much I thought it would." 

He moved his hand up and cuddled you, kissing the top of your head. You hoped it was a good sign and you wouldn't end up in a ditch in the evening. Was Peter going to keep you here as his personal toy? It was humiliating to even think about that, but anything seemed better than dying to you now.

He let you stay. In fact, he had never considered letting you go after Mr. Stark bought you - you were Peter's girl now, right? So he did his best to accommodate you in that room where he lived, providing you with clothes, shoes, cosmetics and all the things you needed, a laptop included. Of course, there was no wi-fi or anything that could help you to connect to the outer world, but Peter recommended you strongly against it. You've already seen enough that made it impossible for you to leave - Mr. Stark would never take it kindly if you tried to run or, God forbids, go to the police. It wasn't just your life at stake, but the life of your family, too. It was embarrassingly easy to find out everything about them, including where they lived and worked, of course. Tony could kill them with a snap of his fingers.

Though you weren't allowed to leave the room, Peter promised he would do everything to give you more freedom a bit later. The guys needed to trust you before they would grant you permission to move freely around the building - not that you really wanted it. Who in the right mind would walk the Stark's Tower full of deranged criminals? 

Anyway, the place where you were now was mostly comfortable - you could watch TV and play video games if you were bored; Peter also brought you a pile of books and magazines, and he was always providing you with nice food. Honestly, you expected something way worse than that.

It was the end of the third day when the boy returned with a box of pizza and a few bottles of Starbucks frappuccino, his usually cheerful expression turned all gloomy and tired. Something must had happened, but you were not sure if you were allowed to ask him that - you had never discussed the things he was doing outside of this room. 

"Hi, Peter. How was your day?" You stood up from the bed and took a box and bottles from him, placing them on the side table close to the microwave. Before you could turn to him, you felt the boy kissing the back of your head.

"Tired." He mumbled and step back, taking off his bomber and sneakers before moving to bed and sitting down. "I've had _a hell of a day._ "

"I'm so sorry. Do you want me to draw you a bath?" 

When he looked at you, you saw him chuckling warmly as he motioned you to come closer. You lowered yourself on the bed, too, and Peter kissed your lips, then grinning and laughing like a kid.

"You don't know how happy I am to have you, Baby. You're sweet and smart and, uh, you don't want to run from me because you know there's no good in that."

Maybe his words were intended as a compliment, but you shivered and quickly placed a fake smile on your face. You had already figured out Peter was not even half as sweet as he seemed. What did you expect from him being Stark's favourite?

"Did something happen, Peter?" You knew you were going to regret asking that, yet you felt like you had to. You needed to pretend your relationship with him were genuine.

"Mr. Stark shot Amanda." The boy shooked his head sadly. 

"Who?"

"His new girl. The one he bought at the same auction as you."

That immensely beautiful woman with her eyes deep as ocean and hair dark as night? She could easily be the world's next beauty queen, and he killed her? He killed an innocent woman who, besides that, was stunning, graceful and perfect and walking on air?! 

"I mean, of course she brought it on herself when she whored with her guards to make them let her go, but, shit, I don't like it when Mr. Stark kills his girls." Peter covered his face with his rough palms and rubbed his eyes as you stared at him, terrified. 

"Does he... does he kill them all?" 

"Not all of them... but most."

You heard youself sobbing and clamped a hand against your mouth right away, tears pouring down your face. Your pathetic attempt to hide your fear failed as Peter leaned closer to you, taking your hand away and kissing your eyelids to shush you. He rubbed your back reassuringly and let you put your face against his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Baby." That was how he called you now. "You're not his girl, you're mine. This will never happen to you because I love you a lot and you're smart, right?"


	3. Chapter 3

"But what... what if he won't like me? What if he'll take me away?" You sobbed, panic taking over you as you imagined Tony Stark pressing a gun to your forehead.

"No, he'd never do that." Peter left a little kiss behind your ear. "Mr. Stark doesn't take the gifts he's made back. You don't have to be afraid of that."

You sniffed at his words. That's what you were now. A gift. A possession. A pet whose job was keeping its master happy. You had to be grateful you were given to someone like Peter, at least. You didn't know whether he would always treat you kindly, but as of now he had never threaten to hurt you. You could only pray for him to fancy you so he wouldn't throw you away as some garbage - apparently, Tony Stark treated his women exactly like that.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place. Of course, you got upset." Peter cuddled with you some more, but you weren't sure whether he was being sincere. Wasn't he sending you a clear message? 

_Don't go against me or you'll end just like her._

"Oh, I have an idea. Let's go out! Do you wanna see the movie or something?"

You did your best to wipe away your tears and stared at the boy, perplexed. "What?"

"We have a nice little cinema not far from here. We could go right now, just let me check what they've having today."

"But didn't you say I can't leave this place?"

"I meant without me." He showed you the same smug smirk Stark was wearing all the time, and you lowered your gaze to Peter's chest instead. "With me close you can go wherever you want to."

Funny thing to say. In thruth, you could go wherever he wanted to take you.

"Wow, they're having Beyond Darkness in 30 min! We gotta go, you'll loooove this."

"Sure."

In five minutes you were already hurrying after Peter and trying to look nowhere but your shoes. Regardless of what was there in Stark's Tower, you didn't want to see it, not even mentioning all those guys with guns scattered across the building. Peter was saying his hello to each and every one of them as if he were some mafia's social butterfly. 

Whatever. You knew Peter was Tony's favorite not because he had a pretty face. You had never particularly asked what his role in all this was, but it was obviously something way bigger than running errands for the gang. Maybe it was better to never figure it out.

"Hey girl, wanna have fun?" Somebody to your left asked you, and you flinched involuntarily, keeping your head low.

Peter stopped in the very same second and sent the stranger a hard look.

"Mike, you offer my girl drugs one more time and I'm gonna shoot your cute little brother in the leg, you hear me?"

You raised your eyes to Peter's smiling face and regretted it immediately. There was something so dark in his gaze you wanted to turn around and run until you were back to your room, hiding somewhere in the corner.

"Shit! Sorry, Spidey!" The guy's high-pitched voice sounded frightened. "Didn't know you got a girl!"

"Yeah, yeah, see you later, we're kind of busy now." Peter grabbed your hand and pulled you away, heading to the exit. "I forgot to mention before that we don't do drugs. _At all._ They're good for business, but not for us, ok, Baby?"

"Yes, Peter." You answered and kept chewing your lips, thinking of all the things he had just said. You suspected him to be more ruthless when you weren't around, but never to such extent. How damn scary was real Peter Parker?

"And don't worry, I'd never shoot his brother in whatever part of his body." The boy said it like it was something obvious and you didn't even need to pay attention to it. 

Why then did that guy look completely horrified?

When you had finally stepped outside and felt the wind playing with your hair you were ready to cry. Just walking out of the Tower was a fucking torture.

It was already dark, and you pulled the zipper on your pretty blue jacket up, going almost shoulder to shoulder with Peter. Normally you'd be at least a little scared to walk the streets of a big city at night, but the guy your mother had warned you about was already holding your hand. 

The place the boy brought you to was truly small but cozy with nice vintage red seats, the delicious smell of caramel popcorn spreading everywhere. It turned out that the movie was something in between Star Wars and Star Trek, which wasn't surprising because Peter was a sucker for anything related to sci-fi. Anyway, it wasn't bad and you actually enjoyed watching it. The movie helped you to keep your mind off your earlier encounter with the drug trafficker and the words Peter said.

The only way to live like that and stay sane was to turn a blind eye to anything that happened around, you thought. It was cowardly and revolting, but what could you do against one of the most, if not the most, dangerous gangs in New York? Surely, even if by some miracle you could flee the Tower and go to police, would they really be willing to help you? No, they would return you to Mr. Stark. You were a hundred percent sure he got it covered.

"Are you feeling tired, Baby?" 

You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at Peter who smiled at you so lovingly it could make any girl cry.

"Just a little bit."

"Want me to give you a massage when we gonna get home?" His expression quickly turned devious, and he winked at you.

Yeah, great, now you'd have him fucking you before your knees were giving out. The kid had such stamina he could be an Olympic athlete, no less. 

"Aw, I love when you blush like that." Chuckling, he put his arm around your shoulders and inched closer to give you a quick peck on the lips. You forced youself to enjoy his little signs of affection and start thinking you ought to be thankful he wasn't into heavy BDSM practices or something like that.

While you two were kissing again, you heard someone's loud footsteps as if this person just jumped out of the corner, and then there was a hateful outburst, "Stay were you are. Your wallets, quick!"

You froze, your hands getting cold as you stared at the face of a guy standing in front of you with a knife in his hands. He was clearly unstable, sick - you could see the dark circles around his eyes, the unhealthy color of his skin, and his greasy hair sticking to his forehead. You didn't know what was wrong with him, but he was twice bigger than Peter. The guy would probably have no problem with slicing both him and you into pieces if you didn't comply.

"I said g-"

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." Peter let out a frustrated sigh before you heard the loud sound of the gun firing.

There was a little black hole in the guy's chest, blood seeping through his dirty white t-shirt and coloring it in a beautiful deep ruby color. You could see the confusion in the eyes of the stranger, his mouth half-open. Slowly, he went down before his legs gave out and he landed at the ground with a loud thud. He didn't move after that.

"Come on, attacking a couple of high shoolers? You're such a psycho, man. Who were you gonna go after next? Kids?" Peter rolled his eyes and hid the gun under his bomber, turning away from the man he murdered and shouting to someone behind him. "It's ok, people! It's just me, your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man! Calm down, go home, it's late!"

You were still staring at the large pool of blood spreading beneath the body of a stranger - lack of light made it look like it was an odd black liquid. Before you could take your eyes elsewhere, you felt bile quickly going up your throat and vomitted, moving to lean your hand on the wall of a building. He killed him. Peter killed him. You didn't even see him pulling out the gun.

"Oh Baby, I'm so sorry." The boy gently held back your hair when you threw up again, feeling scared, disgusted, feverish and cold at the same time. "That's why I don't like drugs and what they do to people. That shithead lost his mind, you see? No sane guy would ever jump on me or my girl like that."

Despite him being so tender, you couldn't even turn your head to look at him as you started shaking from his touch.

You kept emptying your stomach a few more minutes before Peter softly wiped your mouth with his handkerchief and took your arm, walking you back to the Tower and saying all those unnecessary things about how terrible some people are and how everyone has to take care in the dangerous world they're living in. You didn't hear half of that, but you cared little for his chattering. 

Peter had shot the man without showing even the slightest regret. He'd shoot you the same way if you ever turned against him - he was Stark's favourite, after all.


	4. Chapter 4

That night he was restless. 

It had already been a month since you left the auction in Peter's car and started living in Stark's Tower. The evening when the boy shot a drug addict on the street was forever imprinted on your memory.

Apart from that, things were quite simple. Each morning you were waking up in the same bed as him, having breakfast together, and then staying alone in the room while Peter was gone to do whatever Mr. Stark wanted him to. Sometimes the kid wouldn't leave at all, sometimes he'd come late and drenched in someone else's blood. You helped him shower and clean his wounds if he had any. Well, miraculously, for the past month Peter didn't need stitches or anything of that kind. But you knew he wasn't always that lucky - his back and chest were covered in ugly scars, his wrists bore strange circular shape marks. The only reason you hadn't seen them the first night was because you were so terribly drunk.

The boy whined softly in his sleep, and you tried to shush him. Today he returned beaten up, anxious, and exhausted. He and Rhodes were hunting down someone from the gang who had gone completely mad, but Peter refused giving you any details. You suspected something really terrible had happened since the boy was hard to frighten.

And now he was crying, tossing and turning in bed. It was the first time you saw him like that.

"Peter, Peter wake up." You whispered, gently touching his shoulders. "Please."

It took you a few long moments before he had finally opened his eyes and stared at you, his breathing ragged, erratic.

"It's you. It's you." He mumbled, and you saw tears streaming down his face to the pillow beneath his head.

"Yes, it's me." You cooed at him and wiped the wet tracks with your hand, leaning down to kiss him in the forehead. "You're safe."

"Please, please don't go." The fear in his eyes made you stop as Peter gripped your hand in trembling his. "I'm not safe. I'm never safe."

What kind of nightmare was haunting him, making him shake so badly? He looked so scared, so vulnerable and defenseless, tearing up like a little kid. You had never thought you could pity a mobster, but you were wrong - you felt sorry for him.

Shifting on the bed that way that Peter's head came to rest against your chest, you buried your fingers in his disheveled hair and started caressing his head.

"You're safe with me, Peter." You whispered reassuringly, and he snuggled closer to you, throwing his hands against your body. "I'm staying with you. Come here, sweetheart."

He tried to nuzzle against your soft body so close as if he wanted to become a part of you quite literally. Peter let out a heavy sigh, and you felt the skin on your chest burning.

You spent a few more minutes in complete silence of the room, listening to each other's soft breathing. Although you had no intention of moving away from him, Peter clung to you as if his life depended on it. You were curious what he had seen in that nightmare of his, but you didn't say a word, knowing he needed time.

"It's so scary to be alone in the dark." Peter suddenly said, his grip in you getting a little tigther. "I need you to walk with me."

You blinked, unsure of what to say. Didn't he choose the darkness himself? Didn't he get accustomed to all the things he was doing? You remembered him killing that guy on the street without any regret. You were pretty sure Peter didn't feel anything. Were you wrong?

"If I came with you... Would you leave me there by myself after that? I'm scared of the dark, too."

He had finally let go of you upon hearing your words and gave you a bit of space, looking at your face intently.

"No, I wouldn't. I'm not Mr. Stark."

At first, you thought he was talking about Tony and his relationships with women, but then the realization hit you: Peter was referring to himself. It was him who was left alone. Despite you thinking he was very close to his patron - for God's sake, the man bought you as a present for the kid - things were rather different in reality. Maybe Mr. Stark treated Peter like a toy, too. Yes, the boy, surprisingly, had some authority in the gang as he was considered Rhodes equal, but maybe Peter didn't want that, or not only that. Maybe he wanted to be taken care of, to be shown some kindness for the things he was doing for his boss. It felt ridiculous suggesting that, but Peter's still wet face made you think that it could really be true.

"Do you know what are these?" Suddenly, the boy lifted his hand and showed you the marks on his wrist. When you squinted and shook your head, he smiled. "These are cigarette burns. I got them the first week Mr. Stark sent me to school here. I was twelve."

"Did he burn you?" Your gawked at his skin, shivers running down your spine.

"No, he didn't. The guys at school did. I hid it from Mr. Stark, but soon they crushed my head against the sink and I ran away bleeding." He chuckled at your horrified expression. "I thought Mr. Stark would come talk to the teachers or sent his guys, but instead he gave me a gun and said I had to earn my place in the gang. So I went to school with a gun in my backpack and shot one of the guys who bullied me."

You stared at him, hoping it was all about his very dark sense of humor - he had to be joking. Even though you knew what man Tony Stark was, how savage did he had to be to give a firearm to the twelve-year-old child who was bullied? 

"Of course, Mr. Stark made it so the other kid was charged with the murder while I just walked away. After one month, I felt so guilty for what I've done that I attempted to end my own life by taking a whole a pack of sedatives." 

When he brushed his hand against your cheek you realized you were crying at his words.

Sniffing, you brought his hand closer to you and lowered your lips to his wrist, kissing the marks on his skin. Peter's eyes went wide, but he didn't say a word at your gesture, and you touched each and every burn with your chapped lips while he watched you. Did it bring him any comfort? You hoped it did, because no words could describe how you felt once he finished talking.

No wonder you were the closest to a friend he had ever had. He wanted to have someone by his side so desperately.

"I will never do something like that to you." He whispered ever so gently, not smiling anymore. "Even if you're going to hate me or run from me... But please, please don't run. I need you. You don't understand, but I need you so much."

Slowly, you started kissing his fingers one by one, watching his eyelashes tremble. For some reason, you felt grateful for his sincerity as if it changed something. He was the only man to ever need you - and need you so desperately he was literally begging you to stay with him. It was stupid believing the one who held you captive here, but you still did. 

You wanted him to need you more.

"I want to make love to you." He murmured, and one of his fingers touched your lower lip. "Can I? Please, Baby."

"What, now?" To say you were surprised would be an understatement. "But y-"

"Please." He breathed, and his finger slipped past your soft lips, forcing you to lick it, swirling it around your wet little tongue. "I wanna fuck your ass. You don't mind, do you? You took the toys so good yesterday."

You rolled you eyes at him, but obeyed, nonetheless, sucking his finger deeper into your mouth as if it were his cock. Well, you did like it when he kept playing with your ass the whole week.

"You're so good to me." His other arm was already lowering your pyjamas pants as Peter squeezed one of your buttocks, and then his fingers found your little tight hole. "I love you so much."

You grunted in response, feeling how he massaged the entrance with his fingertips, equally aroused and scared at his excitement.  
_______________

One more month had passed. You were finally allowed to go out of your room all by yourself as members of the gang were assured you were completely harmless. The thought of coming back to your family had always lingered at the back of your mind, but you always pushed it away, knowing you might as well just go and shoot people you loved by yourself. Now you had seen what Mr. Stark was doing with traitors with your own eyes and you would never want to risk being in the same position.

Peter still treasured you. He had become way more creative in bed comparing with your first handful of weeks, but not that you could complain since giving you pleasure was among things he cared about the most. Besides, your relationship got even better as now he was slowly opening up to you about both his past and present. You no longer dreaded coming with him somewhere. The only thing that bothered you was a feeling that, somehow, Peter got even clingier, but you brushed it off. There could be nothing bad in his growing affection to you.

That day you were coming back from the communal kitchen - thankfully, most of the gang members didn't use it much as it was reserved for their women. The ones who came to cook there were more or less decent, so you weren't worried being close to them. Besides, the boy also gave you one of his guns. Just in case, he said.

Carefully opening the door to your room, you balanced with a heavy plate of chocolate chip cookies in the other hand and stepped inside. Instead of Peter you found Tony Stark sitting on the chair in his breathtakingly beautiful white suit. You held your breath and stilled, unsure of what to do. You had never faced Mr. Stark all by yourself. Were you even allowed to be here now? He clearly needed Peter, not you.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir, I'll return la-"

"It's quite alright, Y/N, come."

He remembered your name, really? It got you alerted.

You hesitantly closed the door, but didn't turn the key, leaving the plate on the top of the microwave standing on the side table. Did you have to offer the man your cookies? Would he be offended by that? 

"I apologize, I didn't know you were coming, sir." You said softly, clenching the fabric of your simple cream-colored dress. "I'm sure Peter is going to return shortly... Um, w-would you like to have some cookies, sir?"

"Yes, please." He answered simply, and you brought him the plate immediately, feeling being something between a hostage and a servant to the crime boss. "Mm, not bad. My mother used to bake them, too."

"I'm glad you like it, sir."

You didn't know where to put yourself, knowing he watches you. Except for a chair near Peter's table and his bed there was nowhere to sit, but placing yourself on the top of the bed while there was a man in your room seemed to you absolutely indecent, so you awkwardly leaned on the wall. You prayed for Peter to come back soon, unsure of how you should behave with the most dangerous man you had ever known in the room.

He smirked at you, finally lifting his fancy sunglasses and hiding them in the pocket of his suit.

"I see you settled in nicely here. Do you enjoy living with the kid?" 

You shivered, looking at his handsome face and nodding to him.

"Yes, sir, I do." 

"Huh, is it Peter's gun you have there? Did he give it to you?" Tony pointed at the holster strapped to your belt - you knew it looked ridiculous, yet it was better to look ridiculous but have something to protect yourself, giving that you were living inside Stark's Tower. "Let me have a look."

"Of course, sir." 

You didn't like taking the gun and giving it to the man, knowing perfectly he could shoot you right here and right now. You still remembered that perfectly innocent woman he murdered because she wanted to flee as well as all those ones he got rid of before her. 

You did your best to look humble. In the end, you belonged to Peter, didn't you? He said many times that Mr. Stark wasn't taking back the gifts he'd made. If Peter was alright with you living here...

"I see he takes good care of you, dear. You look positively glowing." Tony had that odd smile on his face while looking at you.

"Yes, sir, he does. He's a very good man." You lowered your gaze to your shoes as blush spreaded across your cheeks. Although all this was definitely wrong, you still have very warm feelings towards Peter. Living with vultures for so many years, he was still able to treat someone with kindness.

You didn't see a subtle flash of anger on Tony's face, but he gathered himself rather quickly. Actually, he didn't come here for Peter. He sent him away to have a few moments with you instead.

It was true you were radiant when he was watching you from a far. What was the kid doing to keep you so happy? Did he give you pretty dresses? Jewelry? A car? Anything else? Tony made way more expensive gifts to his girls, but they were never satisfied, nonetheless. It seemed he was choosing some rotten whores over decent women over and over again despite all his efforts, but Peter got lucky with his first girl. Tony was almost ready to admit he was jealous.

So why were you special? He couldn't explain it with words, yet looking at your warm smile every time you saw Peter the man knew why his kid was so eager to return home every evening. Tony wanted to have this feeling, too.

"I could give you more than he does." The man said, and you choked on air, staring at him like a rabbit in front of a snake. "Peter's a sweet kid, but he's so inexperienced, you know. He has no clue what to do with a woman. I bet he doesn't even bring you to nice places or make you gifts, does he?"

Your heart was beating so fast you felt like it could stop any second. It wasn't good, oh shit it wasn't good for you. You had no idea how a man who was able to force the most beautiful women of the planet to attend to him could ever look at you, someone who wasn't even considered pretty by most people. Was it just because he wanted to see you suffer? Because he couldn't handle looking at a woman who was happy?

"But I already belong to Peter, sir. I am your gift to him." You smiled nervously, trying to be polite. "How do I dare to change my master?"

"Nah, the kid won't mind. I'll give him another girl, I promise." The man winked at you, and you realized he wasn't letting you go regardless of what you'd tell him.

You needed to run.

Before you reached the door he was on your back, grasping your hands in his and chuckling smugly. His other palm was already lifting the hem of your dress.

"Huh, you're not so submissive as you look. I like that." He whispered above your ear, grinding his hips against your ass.

"No, please, sir! I'm not good! I'm not good for you!"

He threw you on the bed you shared with Peter and took of his white suit jacket, watching you crawl away and smiling at your pathetic attempt to run from him. What a sweet little girl you were, he thought. You wanted to be loyal to someone like Peter when you had him offering you to take the place of his woman.

Before coming closer to bed he was taking off his pants, and you readied yourself to scream as loud as you could. Maybe Tony had your gun, but you had to do something. Maybe someone would come before the damage was done.

Who were you kidding? No one would come to protect you against the head of a crime family.

"Now be a good g-"

Before Tony finished the sentence you heard the lound crack of the door opening and then the sound of a gun. Although you intended to scream just a second ago, now you were silent, staring at the quickly growing bloodstain on his expensive white shirt. You suddenly remembered the drug dealer who died exactly like that.

Peter was standing in the doorway with his gun pointed at his own patron, and then he fired one more time. And one more. He seemed to calm down only when Tony fell on the bed, staining it's cover with his crimson blood. Once the boy looked up, you saw his hollow eyes as if he weren't even conscious.

"Peter." You muttered, your eyes full of tears. "He... Oh God."

He saved you. The boy shot that sick bastard before he could lay his dirty hands on you, but you weren't relieved. He killed Mr. Stark, the one who took him into the family and gave him roof above his head. Tony's people would tear Peter apart for his silly attempt to save you.

When he lowered his gun, you left the bed and came closer to him on shaky legs, swallowing your salty tears.

"Peter, you need to run. They'll kill you."

He reached out to your face and stroked your lower lip in awe. Apparently, he was as shocked with his own actions as you were, you thought, your eyes bleary with all those tears.

"Peter, please, you need to run. Leave me here, I'll be... a deadweight." 

Before you could finish he had ushered you to come closer, pressing you against him and putting a hand on the top of your head like a parent to a crying child. His eyes were still hollow.

"Mr. Stark thought he could take whatever he wanted, but he was wrong." The boy whispered, and you cried out quietly at his words. "He thought you'd say yes, and I won't object, hahah."

"Peter, p-please. If you won't go..."

"Why should I go, Baby?" He left a tender kiss on your forehead, his tone of voice strangely calm, but frightening. "We can run Stark's family without a Stark in it, can't we, Rhodey?"

Amazed, you glanced straight ahead of you and saw heavy armed people waiting behind Peter's skinny figure. You recognized many of them as part of Peter's and Rhodes' team, but there were Tony's bodyguards and some other men you had never seen before. They stayed still, their eyes on the two of you and Stark's dead body laying on your bed. For some reason, no one aimed their guns at you. They just stood their and did nothing at all.

"No one's taking you away." Peter's voice turned sweet as he dropped his gun to the floor and his other hand rested on your back. "And I'm not going anywhere. You're my girl, Baby, and you gotta stay whatever happens."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my story till the end! I hope you enjoyed it <3


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